


all come back (or all come close)

by blazeofglory



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Established Relationship, M/M, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: It’s been months now, since the world ended. Sol’s met other survivors.But he’s never run into someone he knewbefore.
Relationships: Edward Little/Solomon Tozer
Kudos: 20





	all come back (or all come close)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Autumn Town Leaves" by Iron & Wine. 
> 
> this is technically set in the walking dead zombie universe, but absolutely no knowledge of that show is necessary! 
> 
> i searched for a zombie AU in this fandom and didn't find a single one???? so i took it upon myself to deliver one, but this is..... all tenderness and no zombies. whoops!

Sol stares for a long moment, completely at a loss for words. It’s not often that they meet new people— _living_ people—and it’s even less often that they get off on the right foot. Things have been changing since Cornelius died, though. Things have been looking up. 

It’s been months now, since the world ended. Sol’s met other survivors. 

But he’s never run into someone he knew _before._

“Edward,” Sol says, breathless. The shock and awe on his face is mirrored on Edward’s. He looks… he looks good. As rough as the rest of them, but in a rugged way that suits him. God, Sol’s never even seen Edward with a _beard_ before, and now he’s wearing _flannel._ Even now, with civilization a distant memory, Sol is somehow surprised that Edward isn’t in ironed slacks. 

“You two know each other?” asks one of the men with Edward. The Irish guy. Their leader. 

“Yes,” Edward answers, and _oh_ it’s good to hear his voice. Sol’s chest feels tight and he suddenly thinks he might cry. “We…” 

“I called you,” Sol says suddenly, the words jumping right out of him. Seeing Edward now, it all comes rushing back—the fear, the anxiety, the desperate need to find everyone he cared about and get them _out._ “When everything—when I left the city, I tried to find you. I called you but I couldn’t get through.” 

Sol hadn’t been able to get through to anyone. He didn’t get anyone out, except Heather, who he’d been with at the time. And he… he didn’t last long. 

Edward looks away, eyes focused on the ground, as he replies quietly, “I was held up for a while, but as soon as I could, I showed up at your place. You were already gone.” 

Sol shoves his gun into the holster, and he’s distantly aware that they are very much not alone, but he doesn’t _care_. He steps closer, and Edward reaches out, pulling Sol into his arms, and for the first time in a very long time, Sol _cries_. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sol whispers, clutching tight at the back of Edward’s denim jacket. “I thought…” 

“Someone had been staying in your apartment,” Edward whispers, voice shaking. “And there—there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead. Dead and gone and eaten—” 

“We’re _alive_ ,” Sol whispers back with conviction. He pulls back a little and sees that Edward is crying too; he raises his dirty, callused hands to gently wipe away the tears. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sol notices that the others have stepped away to give them their privacy. 

“Solomon,” Edward breathes out, so gently, like the name might break in his mouth. He’s still crying, but he smiles now. He’s just as beautiful as he was the day they met. 

Sol kisses him. 

Edward holds Sol tight and kisses him back hard, and they are _alive_. Edward is whole and healthy under Sol’s hands. His heart is still beating. He still draws breath. He is _alive._ Sol had never even let himself get his hopes up that Edward made it out of London, let alone lasted this long. 

Sol’s done his best to not think about Edward at all. 

But not a day has passed that Sol hasn’t thought of Edward. 

When they part, they lean their foreheads together, and they breathe. 

“I love you,” Sol whispers, voice still thick from crying. 

“I love you too,” Edward replies, hushed. 

“I didn’t know you were gay,” Billy remarks, and Sol pulls away from Edward’s embrace to glare at Billy. 

Billy is smiling softly. 

“It never came up,” Sol points out with a huff. He glances over at Edward, who looks amused. Sol reaches for his hand, and Edward holds tight. 

“I knew you were looking for someone,” Billy says softly. “You always… you check the walkers after we’ve taken them down. You always check for dark haired men.” 

Edward squeezes Sol’s hand tighter. 

“Edward?” 

They all look over, where the leader of Edward’s group is giving them a considering look. What’s this guy’s name again? 

“Bring our new friends,” the man says, offering a smile. “Let’s take them to our camp.” 

* * *

London was one of the first cities to fall. It all happened so _fast_ , it seems like a blur now. People started turning and attacking before the news could even catch up. 

Sol hadn’t been able to reach Edward. He’d wanted to go to Edward’s flat, but it was all he and Heather could do to just get _out_. They barely made it, but Sol hated himself for leaving Edward anyway. 

It feels like a lifetime ago that London was safe, back when there were no walkers. Sol had a one bedroom apartment with roaches and a leaky roof, but he had Edward too. They had food, fresh water, electricity… They’d been happy. 

“I can’t believe this,” Sol says, laughing breathlessly. They’re in Edward’s tent now, barely separated from the rest of the camp, but Sol doesn’t give a shit. He can’t be bothered to meet Edward’s group just yet, not when he’s still re-familiarizing himself with the touch of his lover. When the groups first met earlier, he hadn’t been so sure that they’d get along for long—but now? Sol’s not leaving Edward’s side, no matter what. 

They lay there on their sides, on top of a lumpy sleeping bag on even lumpier ground, and Edward’s hands are shaking as they touch Sol’s face. 

“Solomon,” Edward says again, barely a whisper, voice shaking as much as his hands. “You…” 

“Yeah,” Sol whispers back. “Me.” 

“I want to know everything.” Edward leans in for a soft, sweet kiss. “How you got out, how you survived—” 

“It’s not a pretty story,” Sol interrupts, looking away from Edward’s pretty dark eyes. He doesn’t want to think about surviving right now—he doesn’t want to think about Heather, about Cornelius, about blood under his nails and scars on his arms. He never wants to think about any of that ever again.

Edward gently turns Sol’s cheek, a tender look on his face as their eyes meet again. “It’s been ugly for me too, Sol. We all do what we need to survive.” 

“Jesus, Ned, I’m glad you’re alive,” Sol laughs, quiet and relieved. He still can’t believe this is really happening. “Edward fucking Little, god damn it.” 

Edward laughs too, and Sol kisses him again—their beards are new, but the touch of Edward’s lips is familiar as breathing, and Sol melts against him. Later, they will tell each other the horrible things they did to survive, and they will meet each other’s friends and the people who have become family, and they will eat dinner and they will go to sleep curled up together. Later, they will figure out how their new lives fit together. 

But for now, Sol bites Edward’s lip and Edward moans softly, and Sol pushes Edward down to straddle his hips, and Edward holds him close, and they don’t leave the tent for a long while. 

**Author's Note:**

> i had this scene in my head and couldn't rest til i wrote it. i _might_ write more in this verse if people are interested, so please let me know if you want more!! 
> 
> find me talking about this ship on twitter @blazeofglry!


End file.
